


Danse de l'Oiseau de feu (Dance of the Firebird)

by Asterhythm



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Firebird, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Middleford University, Mistaken Identity, Own Voices, Part of the AsteRealm, Saint Arbucks, The Firebird - Igor Stravinsky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29301456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asterhythm/pseuds/Asterhythm
Summary: Choi Beomgyu has a crush on two different people.There’s the charming barista at the coffee shop where he busks every Wednesday. Beomgyu has never grabbed his name, and he’s never had a crush on a boy before, but he can’t ignore the way his heart lights up every time he sees this man. He even knows Beomgyu’s order by heart, so that must mean something, right?And then there’s Choi Yeonjoo, the dance major at Beomgyu’s school. She just got booked to dance the Firebird, and Beomgyu’s been roped into playing in the orchestra pit. Yeonjoo is beautiful and talented and so out of Beomgyu’s league, but it’s not stopping him from crushing on her.How is Beomgyu supposed to choose between them? Does he now have a thing for pink hair? Or is there something he’s possibly missing?
Relationships: Choi Beomgyu/Choi Yeonjun
Comments: 5
Kudos: 50





	Danse de l'Oiseau de feu (Dance of the Firebird)

**Author's Note:**

> First: hi my name is Asterhythm and I am genderfluid and I am writing a prompt that is genderfluid yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~
> 
> I got passed a Tumblr post by my boo regarding a TV show concept and I immediately thought, “I SHOULD WRITE THIS.” After bouncing things around Twitter I settled on this pairing. I do pull from my own experiences, but our 4th gen it vocal spends more time as male or female than I do; I pretty much stay agender most of the time, and only rarely flit over to more male or more female. Also, while I think this is pretty accurate genderfluid-wise, there are many ways to be genderfluid, as there are many ways to be nonbinary. 
> 
> This story takes place at Middleford University, a public college in the Midwest that is part of the AsteRealm. I set it here because Beomgyu is a guitarist, and I’ve already written a guitar program into Middleford’s academic program. Kyle Yukishiro is one of my characters -- he’s the reason the program exists! So he cameos a bit, but he doesn’t overrun the darn thing, as he shouldn’t.
> 
> This is also the first time I’ve been able to use my cameo orchestra; they’ll show up at different points as long as I write about orchestras. They’re basically my friends playing orchestra instruments, so I don’t have to use random names. If you’d like to be in the cameo orchestra, feel free to comment: your first name only, your orchestra instrument, and anything cultural I should know (race/gender/specifics about clothing/etc). Most references are very fleeting.
> 
> Please like this, I had so much fun writing this and I’m so glad I decided to do this. 
> 
> Prompt: A romantic comedy where a girl meets a guy and really likes him, then later on meets a girl she also likes and she is tearing herself up trying to choose between the two, only to find out in the end that they were the same, genderfluid person

_Danse de l'Oiseau de feu (Dance of the Firebird)  
Genre: Oneshot/College AU  
Word Count: 7539  
Band: TXT  
Ship: Beomjun/Yeongyu  
Written: January 22 - February 2, 2021  
Spice Alert: Low _

_“In order to create there must be a dynamic force, and what force is more potent than love?” -- Igor Stravinsky_

Kyle Yukishiro blows bubbles in his orange soda. 

“Okay,” he says, calm as ever, putting the soda down, looking up at his best friend. “Walk me through this one more time, Gyu. You have a crush on…”

“Two different people,” Choi Beomgyu says, nodding, still nervous enough that he _might_ throw up. 

“And you called an emergency meeting to talk about this _why?”_

“Because I can’t tell my roommate,” Beomgyu hisses, _really_ wanting Kyle to lower his voice. They are, after all, sitting _smack dab_ in the middle of the fishbowl at Aldridge Student Center. It’s not the center of the universe, but anybody walking by would be able to hear them. 

“And _why_ can’t you tell your roommate? I would think your roommate would be super excited about you liking not _one,_ but _two_ women.” Kyle makes the mistake of taking another swig of orange soda.

Beomgyu swallows. Hard. “That’s the thing. One of them’s a man.”

Kyle spits out his soda. _“Really?!?”_ Over the year that Kyle has known Beomgyu, he has _never_ been interested in anything other than a model-quality female. Most of them have been out of his league, though he did date three different girls from Beta Lambda Upsilon, each “relationship” lasting about a week. Beomgyu is known for his lack of luck in the ladies department. And now he has a crush on a man?

“Nothing wrong with that, man, but -- why now?”

“Okay, look, if Joe finds out, he’s gonna flip. You know how his dad is.” Joe is Beomgyu’s roommate, who spends more time uptown getting drunk than at the dorm. His dad is often seen in one of those disgusting red hats -- even _now,_ when that’s not _en vogue._

“All right, all right, you’re right. Joe would flip. But I’m not. You know that, right? Just because I’m used to you dating women and just because I love Mira doesn’t mean it’s weird. I’m gonna support you, man.”

Beomgyu exhales. “Thanks, man. It’s just the first time this has happened, and I’m still wiggy about it.”

“So tell me about it.” Kyle pauses. “Them. Tell me about both of these...people.”

“Okay, so. I apparently have a thing for pink hair right now, because they _both_ have pink hair.”

“That’s odd, but whatever.”

“So one of them works at Saint Arbucks, I see him when I’m there on Wednesdays.” Both Beomgyu and Kyle take turns busking outside of the local coffee shop on the regular. “He works second shift, and he’s _adorable._ Always has his hair back in a ponytail, has the cutest smile, even though he wears glasses and that stupid red apron and hat all the time, it couldn’t look better on him.”

“Sounds like you got a crush, man. Do you even know this guy’s name?”

Beomgyu pauses. “I don’t...actually. But he’s super cute, and sometimes I’ll duck inside and order something just to see his face. And he’s started remembering my order, so --”

“And you don’t know his name.”

“Jesus. I’ll ask him next time I’m there. Promise.”

“Okay. So that’s the dude. Now tell me about this chick.”

“I actually _know_ her name.” Beomgyu sighs happily. “She’s in the dance department, so I see her at the CPA all the time.”

“Oh? Do I know her?”

“Probably not. She’s always sitting downstairs at the turtle, trying to finish her assignments. So I always see her when I’m making food down there and stuff.” The Center for Performing Arts is shared between music, theater, and dance disciplines. The basement has a lounge with several vending machines and a table shaped like a turtle. “But she always carries herself so gracefully, and she can’t ever figure out how to use the vending machine, so I end up always paying for her stuff.”

“Oh, you’re whipped then. What’s her name?”

“I heard someone call her Yeonjoo once.” Beomgyu grins. “Yeonjoo. I love it.”

 _You love her,_ Kyle says, but before he can, Beomgyu’s phone buzzes. He checks it and groans. 

“Nix needs me.”

“Ugh. What for now?”

“I got referred by Dr. Adams again.” Beomgyu makes a face. Dr. Adams is the guitar professor at Middleford; Kyle and Beomgyu are his two main students. Dr. Adams knows Beomgyu also plays piano, so Beomgyu gets voluntold for smaller gigs that the piano students are too busy to take. 

“Good luck, man. You gotta go?”

“Yeah. Orchestra starts at 2, and Nix is gonna want to see me before.” Beomgyu inhales the rest of his lunch and then heads back to the CPA.

Dr. Janielle Nix is the conductor of the Middleford University Student Orchestra. She is stern, but not overly so; she wants her students to pass her classes. Her office hours are always warm and inviting, just like she is. Everybody also agrees she looks good, too; NAFSA’s Middleford chapter has voted her “Best Afro On Campus” for twelve years in a row. 

Beomgyu has only been in an orchestra rehearsal a handful of times. Guitar players count their busking towards ensemble credits, and he’s played piano for the orchestra once or twice before. He’s been stuck playing celeste on _Lieutenant Kijé._ But Beomgyu has no clue what he’s in for this time; Dr. Nix hasn’t given him any information. 

What’s more, he walks into the ensemble room and the _first_ thing he sees is Yeonjoo’s pink hair. 

_Shit._

The orchestra students are running around, setting up chairs, going over bowings and gossiping about the day’s events. Beomgyu stays toward the back, where a baby grand piano is set up. He doesn’t bother cracking it yet or sitting down; Dr. Nix will be in shortly and she’ll want to talk his ear off. 

Instead, he allows himself to stare at Yeonjoo. She looks _impeccable_ today, with a black sweater that hugs her body and a choker made of red ribbon with some charm on it. She’s having a conversation with some other dancer, a tall boy that Beomgyu doesn’t recognize, with wavy brown hair and at least two distinctive moles on his face. 

It snaps Beomgyu back to reality. _This is orchestra practice. What is Yeonjoo doing here?_

“There’s Mr. Choi!” Dr. Nix’s voice calls out across the floor, and Yeonjoo turns toward Beomgyu. 

Their eyes meet. 

But then Dr. Nix puts her hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder, and Beomgyu forces himself to relax. Dr. Nix, after all, knows exactly what she’s doing. The administration still won’t allow her to make any mistakes. 

“I have a few announcements before we tune,” she says as she passes Beomgyu by and reaches her stand. The orchestra gets quiet, and everybody scurries to their seats. “First of all, since Jack graduated last semester, Tatiana will be taking his place at concertmaster.” There are claps and taps at this; Tatiana waves from her seat right at the front of the orchestra. “Second, I mentioned to you last rehearsal that I have more music to pass out. We are still working on Pictures for our February concert, however, our April concert has been finalized, so I can announce that to you now. I hope you’re excited.”

“There’s no free pizza,” a violinist who _must_ be a freshman mutters from the back. “How exciting is that?”

“I heard that, Mr. Kang,” Dr. Nix says, and everybody laughs. “During the fall semesters, we partner with the vocal department here at Middleford to produce an opera. I know you were all working overtime on _Don Giovanni_ last year. Well, we’ve partnered not with the dance department, but specifically with the Cincinnati Ballet. They are performing Stravinsky’s Firebird, and we have been invited to be their orchestra.”

The entire classroom is abuzz with talking and speculation. Beomgyu can hear lots of whispers about “why not CCM,” and he’s also curious -- CCM is _the_ music school in Cincinnati. Someone yells something about “time to shine,” and one of the clarinetists stands up and the _entire_ woodwind section cheers for him for no reason whatsoever. 

Beomgyu rolls his eyes. He doesn’t need ensemble life. If Dr. Adams hadn’t referred him, he wouldn’t even be here anyway.

“We’re still working out details, but the performance will be at the end of April before the semester ends,” Dr. Nix continues. “We’ll be having a couple of guest artists join us, Beomgyu will be filling in on celeste.” She gestures to him, and Beomgyu wants to hide behind the piano. Yeonjoo is _right there,_ and she is probably looking straight at him again, and he does _not_ want any part of this. 

“Sasaki will be on piano, but she’s out today and will be in next rehearsal. In addition, two of our students are going to be dancing the lead roles, as part of our collaboration with the Cincinnati Ballet. Prince Ivan will be danced by Kai Huening, a freshman here at Middleford.” Everybody claps and taps their bows against their stands for Kai, who waves. “Kai has been dancing with Cincinnati Ballet since he was younger, and Prince Ivan will be his first big role. And the Firebird will be danced by Yeonjoo Choi.” Yeonjoo waves, everybody claps, and Beomgyu can’t take his eyes off her. “I’m sure you’ve seen her around campus, I think you were in _Oklahoma!_ last year?”

“I can’t sing,” Yeonjoo says, and everybody laughs.

“You danced the dream sequence,” Kai says.

“Oh, yeah.”

“So they’ll be sitting in on some of our rehearsals so they can get familiar with the music,” Dr. Nix explains. “I just wanted them to stop by real quick to say hi to you, so you’re not surprised when you see them. Any further words?”

Yeonjoo waves again. “I’m just really looking forward to working with all of you,” she says. Beomgyu nearly faints. _God, she’s cute. That smile!_

“Okay, that’s all for now. Let’s sightread this. Dayton, let’s tune.”

The oboist, an unassuming boy with curly hair, gives the orchestra a note to tune off, and rehearsal proceeds. Yeonjoo and Kai leave out the back, and Beomgyu does his best _not_ to watch her go. He then relaxes through most of rehearsal; he looks over the score in between Dr. Nix starting and stopping the rest of the orchestra. Most of his parts will be played on an actual _celeste,_ but he already knows that Dr. Nix has to take it out of storage, which takes a few days and a _lot_ of unnecessary paperwork. 

But he’ll put up with it if it means he gets to see Yeonjoo more often. He knows he doesn’t stand a chance with her. But _God,_ is she pretty. 

* * *

The next Wednesday, Beomgyu makes a point of going inside Saint Arbucks to get a drink. Sure enough, his pink haired man crush is there, glasses on, hair mostly hidden under that hideous red cap. Beomgyu doesn’t pay attention to that, but much to his chagrin, the cute boy does not have a nametag on. _Drat._

“One vanilla frappe for Beomgyu,” he says, spelling it correctly on the cup, then passing it to a blonde haired girl on his right. 

“Good morning, Beomgyu,” the girl calls out as she darts around, making the drink.

“Good morning,” Beomgyu says, and then he realizes that he’s already paid for his drink. He needs to move so the next person in line can get their drink. _Double drat._

He walks to the end, waits, then takes the drink and heads back outside into the cold. There’s a small stool out here, as well as an empty can for tips. Beomgyu fills the can with a couple of dollars to get started, then begins to play, something slow and methodical, one of the etudes he has for class. He usually plays this to warm up his fingers before launching into more standard fare. 

“Hey.”

Beomgyu nearly jumps out of his seat. He turns; the beautiful pink haired demon, still dressed in Saint Arbucks gear, is standing right in the door, looking at him. “Is your drink okay? You were spacing out there for a moment.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Every once in a while, Beomgyu and the cute boy will exchange a few words, but he’s never come _outside_ to talk to him. 

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure you were okay is all.” And then, “You got a lot on your plate right now, don’t you?”

“I do?”

“Yeah, with -- you’re playing in the orchestra right now, aren’t you?”

“How did you know?” Beomgyu hadn’t told him.

“I mean, it’s not a secret. You were there in rehearsal.”

“Oh, do you play in the orchestra too? I didn’t know you were a student.”

The boy with pink hair pauses for a minute, staring at Beomgyu, unsure if he wants to say anything or not. Then, he sighs. “I am. I just...I keep myself busy, as you can see. Kind of got to work as well.”

“Yeah. Oh, so -- I keep coming here, but I don’t actually know your name.”

“It’s Yeonjun. Choi Yeonjun. You’re a Choi too, right?”

 _Yeonjun, huh? Literally almost the same as Yeonjoo._ Beomgyu laughs to himself. _They both have names that are similar, and both have pink hair. Are they siblings?_

“Do you have a sister?” he blurts out.

Yeonjun thinks for a moment, then shakes his head no. “Nope. Only child. Why?”

 _That’s the end of that, then,_ Beomgyu ponders later as he finishes off his drink and plucks out _Stairway to Heaven._ The sky is clear, but his mind is muddy. _They’re not related. Two completely different people. Huh. What are the odds?_ But just as he’s packing up to leave, Yeonjun comes back out with a second drink of Beomgyu’s regular order.

“Come in for a bit. It’s cold out here.”

“I order a cold drink. I don’t mind the cold.”

“Well, I mind the cold. Come in.” And Beomgyu comes back into Saint Arbucks, and he sits in a corner, and Yeonjun removes his hat and apron and _Beomgyu is suddenly glad he did._ There is something handsome about his face, his kind eyes, the black choker around his neck, the way his button down shirt hugs his frame -- 

“You’re staring.”

Beomgyu jumps. _Shit._ “At what?”

“At this?” Yeonjun motions to his choker; it has a blue charm on it. 

“Oh. No, I wasn’t staring. I’m just tired. It looks good on you, though.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“No? Honestly, I’m not really into jewelry or anything like that.”

Yeonjun looks exasperated again -- for only a fleeting second -- and then he covers it back up. “So, if you’re not into jewelry, what are you into?” And he lets Beomgyu talk for an entire hour about guitar methods and sports programs and the art of getting instant ramyun just right, and when Beomgyu leaves, he makes it three steps down High Street before he panics.

He texts Kyle. _I think I was just on a date with Yeonjun._

Kyle is probably with Mira at this time of day, but they don’t do anything remotely scandalous, so Beomgyu knows he’s safe to text. _You were?_ And Beomgyu texts him all the details and Kyle messages, _yeah, that was a date, congratulations dude._ And Beomgyu wants to die just a little bit, but at the same time, his heart feels like it’s on cloud nine.

If he could only decide what to do about Yeonjoo.

* * *

But the weeks fly by, and Beomgyu falls into a routine with Yeonjun at Saint Arbucks. He will play outside for a while, and then after most of the classes are done and the crowds have thinned out, Beomgyu will go back inside, and Yeonjun will have made him an extra drink. Sometimes he tries things out, sometimes it’s the same vanilla frappe, but Beomgyu always enjoys it. And he likes listening to what Yeonjun has to say. He learns that Yeonjun is a student at Middleford, but “my major is so boring you’d probably fall asleep if I talked about it,” and says he spends more time on North Quad than anywhere near the CPA. 

Beomgyu tells Yeonjun about the rehearsals he’s doing for the orchestra, but he doesn’t mention any details, and he _certainly_ doesn’t tell him about Yeonjoo. If you put them side by side, Yeonjoo is much more conventionally attractive to Beomgyu, but Yeonjun has a mysterious air about him that draws Beomgyu in, further and further.

If he had to make a choice _right now,_ he would pick Yeonjun. If Yeonjun confessed to him tomorrow, Beomgyu would accept. He just doesn’t _know_ Yeonjoo that well, although she’s astonishingly beautiful. 

“Today we’re focusing on the Infernal Dance,” Dr. Nix announces, which means Beomgyu can take a backseat and just watch. “Brady, are you ready?”

“Dr. Nix, I was _born_ ready,” Brady says, and then he holds up what looks to be a weird colored saxophone. Beomgyu doesn’t even know what that thing is. But then the orchestra starts, and Brady starts to play it, and Beomgyu realizes it’s a clarinet -- just a bigger and lower one. It fits in perfectly with the other low instruments as the dance begins. 

The _Firebird,_ Beomgyu has learned, is Stravinsky’s second most popular ballet, after the super controversial _Rite of Spring._ The story tells of a Prince Ivan, in this version played by dolled up freshman Kai Huening, trapped in a magical realm. He meets the Firebird (played by the astonishingly good looking Choi Yeonjoo), but when he catches her, he spares her life, and she gives him a feather as thanks. Later on, when the evil ruler of the realm attacks, Ivan uses the feather to summon the Firebird, and she pulls the villain and his minions into an elaborate dance. 

And _boy,_ is it elaborate. 

He nearly jumps when he feels someone lean on the piano, but it’s just Yeonjoo, watching the action take place. “This part of the dance is _insane,”_ she says. “Every step has to be perfect. I won’t bore you with terminology, but let’s just say it’s the most demanding other than the _pas de deux.”_

Yeonjoo could _literally_ be speaking French, and Beomgyu would still think it was beautiful. 

“The entire company is out on the stage, because we need as many minions as we can get. And they’re all dancing together to this music. And I’m right there, in the middle of everybody, showing them where to go and what to do.”

“Wow.” It’s the first time that Yeonjoo has said more than three words to Beomgyu. “That will be something to see...although I’ll be in the pit.”

“You could always come to one of our rehearsals.” And then, Yeonjoo snaps her fingers. “Or I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a secret.” And Yeonjoo walks off, and Beomgyu is left to wonder why Yeonjoo was so friendly with him.

The next rehearsal begins with the _finale,_ which Beomgyu is not needed for, and then the _pas de deux._ And Kai and Yeonjoo both come in the back, and the orchestra members _ooh_ and _aah,_ because they have both come in in _costume._ Kai is wearing a bright orange jacket with beaded details, blue tights and pointe shoes. His hair is combed back, and Beomgyu can spot an entire section of second violinists gaping and giggling at him. 

And Yeonjoo looks _gorgeous._ She is draped in bold red fabric, gathered at the shoulders so that when she dances, her arms will look like wings. The bodice is tight around her chest, and the skirt is flat, in the traditional Russian style. Her pointe shoes are red, matching the outfit. And her pink hair is tied up on her head, with an elaborate crown made of jewels and a few red feathers, obviously fake, on either side. 

She trots over to the piano. “Well? How do I look?”

Beomgyu just stares, mouth agape, not finding the correct words. But then Yeonjoo is called to the front of the room, and the dance begins, and he has to focus on his _celeste_ part. In between, though, he sneaks looks and glances at Yeonjoo, a brilliant blaze of red, dancing beside Kai. They don’t do any of the lifts, and some of the extensions are simplified (mostly so Yeonjoo doesn’t kick Dr. Nix in the face). But the spirit of the dance is still there, and everybody applauds when they are done.

“Hey,” Yeonjoo says, rapping her fingers against the piano lid. She is still dressed in her Firebird finery. “Are you free now?”

“Yeah, I don’t usually have plans on Friday nights.”

“Can you wait for me? I need to get out of this.”

“Sure.” And Beomgyu waits outside class until Yeonjoo meets up with him again. Her shoulder length pink hair hangs down, curling around her face. She’s wearing a pink hoodie with lace around the edges and skinny jeans, and Beomgyu feels outdressed _again._

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Actually…” Yeonjoo seems shy for a minute. “Do you mind if we go to dinner? We can just go to Aldridge, I just wanted to have some time to talk. I think it’s kind of important.”

“Oh.” Beomgyu tries to put the pieces together, but can’t determine _why_ Yeonjoo would want to be talking with him like this. So he follows her across the quad to the student center, and they both order food and take seats in the fishbowl.

“So I haven’t put this on yet, and I did that on purpose,” Yeonjoo starts right in. And she pulls out a ribbon choker, pink in color this time, with a pink charm on it. She ties it in the back, making sure it’s snug around her neck. 

“It’s cute,” Beomgyu says, admiring the look on her neck. “It really suits you.”

“It’s not just that, Beomgyu, you -- you’re not understanding me. And I think if you’re going to continue liking me, then I should make this clear.” 

And Beomgyu is speechless. “You -- you figured out I like you?”

“It’s kind of obvious.” And Yeonjoo giggles, and it’s the cutest noise Beomgyu has ever heard in his entire life. “You’re always staring at me in class and stuff. And, to be honest? You’re really cute, too. You really are. I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. But beyond that, if you really want to get to know me, there’s something you should know --”

“Hey, Gyu!” 

Yeonjoo stops short. Standing right behind her at six feet, two inches, is Joe, Beomgyu’s roommate. “You guys just eating? Mind if I join you?” And then he invites himself to the table, plopping down in a third chair and _really_ taking notice of Yeonjoo. “Oh, you’re pretty! I’m sorry, are you guys on a date?”

“We’re not,” Yeonjoo mutters, trying to shut the whole thing down.

“Oh, then I should get to know you better! Are you a music student?” And Yeonjoo is forced to entertain Joe as Beomgyu sits in silence, eating his wrap. They make casual conversation, but Beomgyu can tell that Yeonjoo isn’t the most comfortable right now. Besides, there was something she had wanted to tell him…

He runs their conversation back through his mind. _You’re really cute, too. You really are. I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together._ Yeonjoo likes him? She’s right, he doesn’t know her _that_ well, but she just confessed to him in a very roundabout way. Should he say yes? But then Beomgyu thinks back to Yeonjun, how sincere their conversations are at Saint Arbucks. He knows he likes Yeonjun, but for all he knows, Yeonjun might not even like men. Most men don’t like other men, from what Beomgyu has gathered. 

“Well, I gotta get to my next class,” Joe says as he leaves the table, taking all of the trash with him (at least he has the decency to do that). “Gyu, I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Beomgyu says with a wave. He checks his phone really quick -- they’ve only wasted twenty minutes listening to Joe talk Yeonjoo’s ear off. He turns to Yeonjoo. “He’s kind of an ass. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” And Yeonjoo sighs. She seems like she’s irritated by something, but then she bites her lip and for a second, it looks like she might cry. “Men like that scare me. I know he’s your roommate --”

“Random situation. I’m moving in with Kyle next semester.”

“Good, because he’s a dick.” They both laugh.

“Hey, you wanted to say something earlier,” Beomgyu says. “What was it?”

Yeonjoo shakes her head. “It can wait. I just...don’t like him, and it’s got me all off my game. I’ll tell you later, though. So, Choi Beomgyu, I’ve finally got you sitting down at a table in front of me. Care to tell me about yourself?” And they talk, and conversation flows more naturally between them now. Beomgyu still wonders what Yeonjoo was going to say, but at least he’s enjoying her company. And they never run out of things to talk about, which Beomgyu really enjoys. They end up spending two hours talking, and they go back for ice cream, and they talk until a tall man appears at the table and Yeonjoo smiles at him.

“We like this one, this is Soobin, he’s my cousin. He’s also my ride. I’ve got rehearsal tonight.” Yeonjoo pulls out her phone. “I’m busy until the show, but can you text me? I want to keep in contact. We should do this again. Just...after the show.”

Beomgyu nods, then copies down Yeonjoo’s number, adding it in. He’s so focused on his phone that he doesn’t notice when Yeonjoo leans over, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. He nearly drops his phone, barely looking up in time to see Yeonjoo walking away with Soobin, waving at him with a smile. 

He smiles, touching his cheek. _She likes me. She likes me!_

* * *

Yeonjoo is missing-in-action for most of the next week because of her rehearsals, so Beomgyu does what he can: he texts her. He has her number, after all. Sometimes he messages with silly things, or selfies in the middle of theory class. But one time in particular, he takes a selfie right before orchestra rehearsal and sends it to Yeonjoo. _Miss you._

It takes her forever to respond, but she does. _Miss you too._ Beomgyu shows Kyle the text message the next day in their shared class.

“You ask her out yet?”

“Not...exactly. But my plan is to get a whole big bouquet of flowers, and give them to her the night of the Firebird premiere, and then ask her out then.”

“That’s romantic. So what about you and this very similarly named Yeonjun? I haven’t seen him at Saint Arbucks.”

“Yeah, I haven’t seen him either, come to think of it…” Beomgyu pouts. “Honestly, maybe it was just a fluke. I think maybe I liked him because he looked too similar to Yeonjoo. So that’s a relief. I’m not actually gay at all.”

“If you were,” Kyle reminds Beomgyu, “it wouldn’t matter. Love is love.”

“Yeah, try telling that to Joe.” Beomgyu still wonders what Yeonjoo wanted to tell him at the student center, but he figures he can ask her about it after the premiere, when she is _much_ less busy. For now, he’s just enjoying texting her and getting a response when he can. There’s not much flirting or banter, but he figures that’s because of her schedule. 

The Firebird premieres in downtown Cincinnati on Friday; on Wednesday, the entire orchestra packs up their instruments and travels to the Aronoff Center for a late night dress rehearsal. Beomgyu helps unload the celeste, then because he doesn’t have to unpack a bigger instrument, he spends the extra fifteen minutes or so looking for Yeonjoo. She’ll be in full costume, and he doesn’t want to miss her. 

He goes looking down the women’s corridor...not far, just seeing if he can hear her voice. When he doesn’t see her, he walks back the other way until he sees someone he kind of recognizes. “Wait, aren’t you Yeonjoo’s cousin?”

“Oh, yeah, Soobin, that’s me.” Soobin grins and flashes a peace sign. “Are you looking for him?”

Beomgyu misses it. “Yeah, I didn’t see her down that way. Is she here?”

Soobin knows what Beomgyu hasn’t been told yet...and what he somehow still hasn’t figured out. “I...down this way, Beomgyu.” And Soobin leads Beomgyu down the _men’s_ corridor to the dressing rooms. He sticks his head in. “Yeonjun, someone’s here for you.”

And Beomgyu pauses in shock. Because, standing in the middle of the room, is none other than Saint Arbucks Barista Choi Yeonjun. Not Yeonjoo. 

He’s all dolled up like he’s Yeonjoo, though. It’s the same flaming red dress, the same flat tutu, the same pointe shoes that have yet to be put on, the hair still tucked up on top of his head. If Beomgyu blinks, he’ll see Yeonjoo there. But there’s something about the face that is pure Yeonjun, not feminine at all. 

“I look kind of silly like this, don’t I,” Yeonjun says, his voice completely different than Yeonjoo’s.

Beomgyu’s mind searches for an explanation. _What is Yeonjun doing here?_ Then, something makes sense in his mind. It explains why Yeonjun wasn’t at work for the past couple of weeks. It also explains what Yeonjoo had been wanting to tell Beomgyu. _If you really want to get to know me, there’s something you should know._

“You’re in _drag?”_ Beomgyu asks, mouth open.

Soobin facepalms and walks away.

Yeonjun looks around, and then, “No?”

“But -- like -- that’s the only explanation for it. You’re Choi Yeonjun, right?”

“Yeah…”

“So _who is Choi Yeonjoo?”_ It doesn’t make any sense to Beomgyu. Where is the beautiful girl he’s started falling for? Because she has the starring role in this ballet, and all Beomgyu can tell is that _she’s not here,_ and Choi Yeonjun is here instead, _and he’s dressed in drag --_

“I’m Choi Yeonjoo,” Yeonjun tries to explain, but Beomgyu’s mind is going a thousand miles a minute.

“You -- you said I wouldn’t like your major. But it’s been you all along. You’re Choi Yeonjoo. You run around campus dressed as a girl so you can audition for the best women’s parts in every show. And then you go to class and you’re just a regular man again. I don’t get why, I mean, I’m sure there are _plenty_ of good men’s ballet roles, though I don’t really know anything about ballet, but why would you stoop this low? Aren’t there lots of talented women who can dance those parts?”

Yeonjun stares at Beomgyu. He _hates_ how this is playing out. “Beomgyu, sweetheart, you have it all wrong --”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.” Beomgyu glares at Yeonjun. “Is the Firebird role that important to you? That you would play around with my feelings? I don’t -- I don’t even know who I’m in love with anymore.” And the moment the words leave his mouth, he’s _certain_ they’re too much -- _he’s not in love, not certainly with a guy --_ but his mind is all mixed up and he knows he’s fallen in love with the image in his mind that never existed. 

He takes a deep breath. “But I’m not. I’m not in love with you, and I never will be. I’m not gay, and I’m certainly not gonna fall for a crossdresser who manipulates an entire school _and_ an entire ballet company just to dance some role!”

“Shut up.”

Beomgyu pauses. Yeonjun’s voice is _low_ now, and he’s still in whatever this drag is, but there are tears streaming down his face. 

“I thought you were different,” he says. “I thought -- I thought _we_ could be different, Beomgyu. But it’s apparent you’re never going to understand.”

There’s something about the way Yeonjun is crying that makes Beomgyu still want to reach out to him. “I --”

“Get out of my dressing room.” And Yeonjun slams the door in Beomgyu’s face.

* * *

Beomgyu anger plays the celeste for the rest of the night, then rides the bus back to campus in a stupor, texting Kyle the entire time. Kyle doesn’t encourage underage drinking, but he doesn’t complain when Beomgyu downs at least half of Joe’s hidden stash of Natty Light. He misses class the next day with the world’s worst hangover, and ends up back at Aldridge eating as much greasy food as possible. 

“You’ll find a new girl,” Joe says; Beomgyu did tell him that he liked Yeonjoo, but it didn’t work out, so the situation seems safe and heteronormative. “I mean, we could hit the club this weekend, see if there’s anyone you’re interested in.”

“I’ll pass. I’ve got that show, remember? We perform all this weekend _and_ next.” _And I have to see stupid freaking Choi Yeonjun the whole damn time._

On Friday, Beomgyu packs his tuxedo and heads down to Cincinnati in a car with some of the other musicians. One of the girls puts on some soundtrack for a musical, and they all sing along, and Beomgyu stares out the window. 

_Choi Yeonjun is secretly pretending to be a girl. And I fell for her. Well...really, I fell for both versions of him. How weird. But the worst part is, I don’t hate myself for it. I wish I could go back and do it all again. Even though it hurts._ He watches the highway lights go by, billboards blurring together until they hit the tunnels into the city. 

The Aronoff is abuzz with activity; patrons from far and wide have come out to see the ballet. Beomgyu and the others enter by a side door reserved for artists only. They all head to their respective dressing rooms; when Beomgyu arrives at the mens’ dressing room, Yeonjun is nowhere to be found. _Oh, well._ He’s probably avoiding Beomgyu anyway. 

Beomgyu gets all dressed, making sure there are no wrinkles in his tuxedo. Then, he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. _Why is he still so nervous about Yeonjun?_ He should be over this. Yeonjun is just a dudebro who’s playing everyone. And yet, here Beomgyu is, still feeling this way. He bites his lip. If he can just get through these performances, he can go back to practicing alone in the basement, quit busking in front of Saint Arbucks, and never see Yeonjun again.

“I got programs!” Brady screams as he enters the room, bass clarinet in one hand, a fat stack of programs in the other. Programs are gold for Middleford students; it means you went to the concert, and students must go to a certain number of concerts per semester or risk dropping out of the music school. Beomgyu grabs one, then because he’s not holding an instrument, he flips through the program, stopping on Yeonjun’s profile.

_Choi Yeon is a 21-year old college junior at Middleford University, currently an apprentice with the Cincinnati Ballet. A genderfluid performer who dances both male and female roles, Yeon (who simultaneously goes by Yeonjun and Yeonjoo while male and female, respectively) trains in all forms of dance, but their specialties are ballet and jazz…_

Beomgyu has to read it twice.

_A genderfluid performer who dances both male and female roles…_

He whips out his phone and does a quick search online; the Cincinnati Ballet has the person’s profile down under the same name, _Choi Yeon._ Another search pulls up what it means to be genderfluid: _never conforming to one gender, sometimes male, sometimes female, sometimes outside of the binary._

Choi Yeonjun and Choi Yeonjoo _are_ the same person, but this isn’t a case of mistaken identity or stolen roles. It’s just Choi Yeon, living their best life.

_If he’s not here, then is she…?_

Beomgyu runs out of the mens’ dressing room, then back down the hall, sprinting in the direction of the womens’ dressing room. He sees Sasaki outside, stopping in front of her. He doesn’t actually want to go _inside_ the dressing room -- that’s very obviously against the rules -- but he wants to set this straight _ASAP._ “Yeonjoo? Are you in there?”

“Who’s that?” Beomgyu hears a girl say, and a bunch of unseen girls giggle.

“What are you doing?” Sasaki asks. “We’re on in ten minutes!”

And Beomgyu knows that Yeonjoo -- if that is her name -- isn’t gonna come out to meet him right now. But he can do his best. “Yeonjoo, I know you got a dance that you gotta do real soon. And I’m not gonna throw that off. I just wanted to say...that I’m sorry, and I’m proud of you, and if you even remotely want to talk to me after I’d be down for that. But for now, just...break a leg, break both legs, I don’t know.”

The door cracks open, and Choi Yeonjoo’s face, caked in makeup, appears. She’s not smiling, but she doesn’t look mad at him, either. “Go get in the pit,” she hisses at him. “We’ll talk later.”

It’s not what Beomgyu wanted, but he’ll take _later,_ and he scurries up the stairs to the orchestra pit and takes his place at the celeste. The audience is abuzz, and Beomgyu can already tell they have a full house. Before long, the lights go down, Dr. Nix walks to her podium, and Dayton helps tune the orchestra. 

Beomgyu plays his parts on the celeste when they come up, but he affords himself a few glances toward the stage when he can. Choi Yeonjoo -- the beautiful dancer performing tonight in glittering shades of red and gold -- is the same person as Choi Yeonjun, the super cute barista he’s made friends with over the past few months. He knows this person likes him. He just hopes it’s not too late. 

And Yeonjoo is absolutely _killing it_ in her performance tonight. There is something even more radiant about how she is dancing, every movement perfect. Beomgyu affords himself to stare at her through the entire _pas de deux,_ knowing the Firebird does not end up with the prince in the end -- he’s got his own princess that he rescues. The Firebird just swoops in and saves the day.

He’s hoping that, at the end of it all, the Firebird will be _his._ But that’s not his decision to make. 

It all passes by in a blur. Before long, the crowd is applauding, and Kai and Yeonjoo are front and center stage, bowing for the spectators. Beomgyu notices that Yeonjoo looks down at him, very briefly, and he swears he catches a smile. 

“Good job tonight!” Dr. Nix says to the orchestra after everybody else has left. “There were only a few little mistakes. Horns, watch your entrances. Second violins, overall you could stand to be a little louder. Get here a half hour before curtain tomorrow, I’ll send an email and we’ll check details. Now, go home and get some sleep! We do it all again tomorrow night!”

There’s general applause as people grab their instruments and head downstairs to change. Beomgyu follows the others to the mens’ dressing room when he sees someone he doesn’t recognize. They have pink hair, so Beomgyu knows it’s Yeonjun -- or Yeonjoo -- but he really can’t tell which. This person has their glasses on, like Yeonjun, but they’re wearing an oversized pink hoodie and skinny jeans, which seems to be more Yeonjoo, paired with combat boots, which are --

The person chuckles. Beomgyu realizes how much he’s missed that laugh. “I’ll wait on you, okay?”

Beomgyu changes out of his tux at the speed of sound, then meets the pink haired Choi outside just as some of the girls yell for him. “Beomgyu, are you coming back to campus with us?”

“Oh, he’s with me, ladies,” and then, “Soobin’s giving us a ride. Want to go for a walk?”

It’s brisk outside, but not particularly cold, as the two of them walk down 6th Street to a small park, talking as they go. “You read the program, didn’t you.”

“I did.”

“I tried to tell you, like, five times.”

“And I wasn’t listening, was I?”

“Nope. I’m a freak of nature, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not. I just don’t understand it yet, that’s all. So Yeonjun and Yeonjoo are the same person…”

“And I switch in and out at random. Sometimes I’m neither, like right now.”

“So I would call you Yeon right now, then?”

Yeon nods. “Yup. If you know I’m a girl, it’s Yeonjoo, and if you know I’m a boy, it’s Yeonjun. If you don’t know for sure, then just call me Yeon.”

“Can I call you Yeonnie?”

Beomgyu can’t see Yeon’s face flush in the low light. “That...uh…”

“So do I just ask all the time? Or is there another way to tell?”

“That’s what I was going to show you.” Yeon pushes back their hoodie to show off the choker around their neck. “I usually wear these, unless I’m on stage. The charm indicates what I am, and I change it the second I notice my gender shift. Right now it’s purple, which means I’m neither boy nor girl.”

“So what are you, then, if you’re not a boy or a girl?”

“I’m just Yeon.” Yeon shrugs. “That’s the part people don’t understand. They think I’m all cool or a shapeshifter or something, but most of the time I’m not either Yeonjun or Yeonjoo. I’m just...me. _Which one is the real you, though?_ they ask, and I’m like, _they’re all the real me. Oh, but what’s in your pants?_ and I say, _my wallet and my cell phone, sometimes a chapstick.”_

Beomgyu has to laugh at this. “You’ve had to explain this to a lot of people.”

“Yeah. I hate it. Sometimes I wish I was normal, or I could just settle. Then I wouldn’t be such a freak. I ended up confusing you for months, when I should have just told you from the get go. But...I didn’t want to ruin my chances with you. I’ve had a crush on you ever since I first saw you sit outside of Saint Arbucks. But what guy wants to date another guy? And what guy wants to date a freak who can’t keep their own gender straight?”

They reach an outdoor plaza, under the shadow of a huge skyscraper. The park sits ahead of them, and on a clear night like tonight, they could both see a few stars in the sky. “You really don’t like yourself,” Beomgyu says.

“Not really. My parents kicked me out, you know. Soobin is the only family I have.”

“You have me, now.” Beomgyu brushes his hand against Yeon’s shoulder. “If you’ll have me. I can’t pretend to say I still understand everything, but you’re still the same person regardless of your gender. You’re still Yeonjoo, and you’re still Yeonjun...whose name I didn’t know for like _weeks.”_

Yeon laughs. “Oh my God, you wanted to know my name! Now you know why I don’t wear a nametag at work!”

“Oh, yeah, because your name changes all the time, too.” Beomgyu stands in the plaza, taking Yeon’s hands. “Things like that might change. But I think people just...change, you know. Change is normal. I’m not the same Beomgyu I was in middle school or high school. So what if your changes are a little unexpected? I think, if you still like me, then that’s what matters.”

Beomgyu can _definitely_ see Yeon’s face flush now. “I definitely still like you.”

“And I like you, too. In fact, considering that we’ve been hanging out for months now, and I know the truth, I think I can say this with a little confidence.” Beomgyu looks Yeon in the eyes. “I think I’m in love with you, Yeon.”

Yeon smiles, and Beomgyu notices the tears that start to fall. “You love _all_ of me?”

“All of you.” Beomgyu lets go of Yeon’s hands to wipe away their tears, and then he kisses Yeon, softly, quickly, under the clear sky, surrounded by the buzz of cars and the sounds of the city. It doesn’t fix all the confusion that he has gone through, but it settles one thing in his mind: that he is _definitely_ in love with this person, and he _definitely_ wants to be with them, and being with someone means patience and communication. And there’s no question in Beomgyu’s mind that Yeon is _worth it._

“Do you taste different as Yeonjoo? Or as Yeonjun?” Beomgyu has to ask with a laugh.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you find out?” And Yeon kisses Beomgyu again, sweater paws cupping Beomgyu’s cheeks, and Beomgyu remembers what Kyle said. _Love is love._ “There. You just got kissed by Yeon. I bet I’ll switch in the car. For some reason, I’m usually Yeonjoo around Soobin. Then you can test and see.”

“I was _kidding._ You are still you. We can still test, though. And I would call you Yeonjoo then, right?”

“You would call me _yours_ then, Beomgyu. It doesn’t matter what name I’m going by at the time. I’m _yours.”_

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: aster_rhythm


End file.
